


Please Let The Devil In

by Dorktapus42



Series: Come Together-verse [31]
Category: Youtube (RPF)
Genre: Angst! Not for my characters but still, But since when has this adhered to canon more than the minimum amount, Deals, Happy Ending?, I took a bit of artistic liberty, Oh hey Author why are you being cryptic, Woah woah wait exposition who?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:44:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorktapus42/pseuds/Dorktapus42
Summary: Sometimes Phantom is actually rather helpful for his clients.Not always, but sometimes...You have to find a way to move on.





	Please Let The Devil In

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the music video for Monster by Dodie. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPBBZyAlu7c&t=5s
> 
> (It's super goooood and pastel and PJ and I love it AAAA-!)

Phantom had managed to fix his cane with a little help from Wilford. 

Just in time, too. As soon as he lay his hands on it the globe started glowing pink. 

“Is it supposed to do that?”

“Yep. It means I have a deal. Hey Mare?”

“Whazzup?”

“You want to go dealing with me?”

A sharp grin. “Heck yeah. See you guys around.” Wire waved. Blank, who tended to hang with the Sharp, blinked at him in that eerie way of his before going back to his phone. They’d come by to make sure he was okay. He was. But he appreciated the sentiment.

Mare grasped his arm, he hit the tip of his cane on the ground, and they disappeared in a wreath of red smoke. 

 

\----------

 

They were met with the face of a broken man. 

“Oh. You actually came.”

He winced. Had he been late? “Was I late?” Deals often went south if he was late.

“No. I just thought nobody would come. My luck hasn’t exactly been the greatest lately.”

Was that what he wanted? Luck?

“I see. So. Tell me what you need.”

“Her.”

“Pardon?”

He ran a hand through his cotton-candy hair, wary of the horns. 

“I guess I should start at the beginning. My name’s Ness. And, for the last eight months, I’ve been in love.”

Oh. It was one of those. 

He kind of felt bad now. He didn’t meddle too much with love. It was a very fickle, foolish thing. Hard to force. Like a plug into a wall the wrong way, or a square peg into a round hole. And it always had consequences.

But he gestured for him to continue. If there was one thing he heard all the way through, it was love. “Go on.” He got comfortable in the desk chair. The desk was covered with crumpled up drawings- posters. Dating advertisements? Out of the corner of his mind, he saw Mare settle down on the floor. He was always down for a story. 

“We met in a bar late one night. She- she was perfect. Still is, to be honest.” He had a lovestruck expression on his face, except for his eyes. As wistful as his expression was, she’d stolen his heart long ago. And torn it right in two. Recently, if his state was any indication.

He held out his phone. On it was a picture of a woman with white hair, a smile on her face. Her forehead was decorated- or encrusted, he wasn’t quite sure- with a silvery star. They both looked... happy. 

“Well, I’m an introvert, and I was shy and stuttery when I asked her if she wanted a drink. But she crafted her response so elegantly… I always thought that the whole love at first sight cliche was dumb but… I think I believe it now.” 

Oh, he’d fallen hard. He wasn’t feigning his sincerity when he gave him a sad smile. “I’m listening. Keep going.”

“I- I guess she was pulling me along, or- or maybe she didn’t realize it, but when she left she… stole my heart right out my chest and took it with her. A few weeks ago. Everywhere she goes, my heart is sitting in that big purse. And everytime I see her…” He trailed off, wiping his face with his hoodie sleeve. “I feel it. More than ever. And… I’ve tried to move on. But I can’t.”

“Do you want to move on? Or have her fall back in love?” One he could do. The other… not so much. 

“I don’t… I don’t know. I just want my heart back. I don’t want to force her into love, because I think she’s moved on…” The  _ or worse _ was left out. But they both knew it was there. She could have been cheating on him. With how fast she moved on…

“How’d you get my book?”

“I found it. On my desk. It helped, for a while.” Ah. That was the worst part of his lure. It gave results, sure, but only for a while. And when feelings were involved… ‘only for a while’ didn’t work very well. “Do you want it back?”

“Eventually. Mind if I tell you something?”

“Um. Sure.”

“I’m a conman. It’s my job to swindle people. The book lures them in, and I take their wish and twist it, giving them a result, but one that ruins the short life they have left before I collect my payment.”

“You mean-”

“No. I’m not going to do it to you.” Ness gave out a sigh of relief.

Mare groaned. “Phantom, that’s no fun!”

“Ignore him. You’ve made my heart of stone bleed. So I’m going to do what I can.” There was only so much he could do with love. Remove it? Yes. Force it? No. Change it? To an extent. It all depended on the situation.

“What can you do?”

“I can return your heart to you. Or, rather, give you the opportunity to get it back for yourself. Not by winning her back, because I can’t force love, but by stealing it. From what you’ve told me, she doesn’t deserve it.”

He looked pained at that statement, but nodded. 

“What else?”

“I can make you not feel the loss of your heart, but then you’d never be able to give it away again. It would be lost forever. A gap you couldn’t fill. You can’t give water from an empty cup.”

If anything he looked more pained than before. “I don’t know.”

“If I may give a word of advice?”

“Sure.”

“Love isn’t a one-time thing. Someone else is out there, one who isn’t a crazy bitch.” 

He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking away. 

“I guess the first option?”

He smiled. “Alright.” He held out the cane. “Touch the tip. Mare, you want to come too?”

“Why not? I have a book in there.”

They all disappeared into his cane, reappearing in the globe. It looked just like he’d left it. 

“Woah. You live inside here?!”

He gave a hum of agreement and knocked on the side of a gold-trimmed machine. “Hold on a second…”

A roll of parchment flew out, almost beaning him on the head. He gave the machine a disapproving look. “Rude.” It was silent. 

He rolled his eyes and unfurled the parchment on the table, skimming it. Good, good, good… oh clever Machine, he hadn’t even thought of that loophole. 

He grabbed his quill and held it out to Ness. “Sign here.” He did. He pointed lower. “And here.”

Sign. 

“Here.”

Sign. 

“Here… here... mother’s maiden name?”

He got a look in response. He ginned. “Kidding. Just sign here.”

He did. The ink flashed red before drying, and he rolled up the parchment with a practiced ease. 

“There we go. I can say that the opportunity will come within…” He looked at his watch. “A week. I strongly suggest going to that bar again. You never know.” He paired it with a wink. 

“O-Oh. Thanks.”

“Not a problem Ness. Good luck.”

The man dissolved into smoke. He followed, grabbing the cane and teleporting away. 

As his vision cleared, he realized he was in the foyer of Ego Manor. Huh. He had just thought of home, figuring he’d go to the Sharp house-

But he really was starting to think of this place as home, huh? He’d even teleported his way directly into medbay when the Society was collapsing, the lyrics only saying ‘home’.

That was mildly disconcerting. And not intentional. If anything, his cane was home. 

He gave himself a mental shake and set off towards the meeting room, pretending to look like he knew what he was doing. It was their meeting day, yes? He could find a way to do something. Spy or whatever. Or help the Jims with a prank. That would be fun, yeah?

Behind a nearby pillar, intelligent eyes snatched up descriptions and thought patterns. An orange pencil danced on a yellow pad. He looked down at the paper.

“Well isn’t that interesting.”

He stood in a single motion and tucked the notepad under his arm. 

He had to hurry to the meeting. He was probably going to have to surrender his pad and pencil but… he didn’t mind.

After all, who would have guessed that inked words were the only way he could affect things?

‘But what about the pumpkins?’ they would ask. There were words written on the bottom. They merely  _ looked _ alive. The ink made the carvings live, not the carvings themselves. 

But he had things to do. Things to write. A life to re-live.

He walked away towards the meeting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The next one's just fluff I swear.   
> And Robbie. Robbie fluff. I think that makes it better? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and that you all have a good day! Thank you for reading!


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